The Shadow Files
by Whispersofadragon
Summary: A series of young Trainers across Hoenn are brutally multilated beyond all recognition. So they called me, Detective Caroline Goodwin, Department for the Protection of People and Pokémon, Shadow Division. Sure, I might be cursed, and my Sneasel, Nora, is pink. But because of my curse, I can trace the darkness and interact with spectral Pokémon in a way others can't.
1. Chapter 1

The darkness settled over Fallowhaven, wrapping its citizens in a knit coat of frost and slumber. Despite the late December air, no snow had fallen on the old, broken earth. Not that snow ever fell in Hoenn. Just a biting, bitter cold that pierced the bone and rendered flesh broken open. In the quiet, frosty dark, even the Yuletide decorations winked out, leaving no trace of life or breath.

And he wished he could hold his breath. He wished he could bury it deep and deeper into his lungs, crushing it out of sight. He wished his heart would shut up for just one damn minute so he could collect his thoughts, to stop the spiral of madness around him.

There was no reason for something like this to happen in Fallowhaven. Dark, mysterious forces worked in greater area, in places like Mossdeep City or Sootopolis. Not Fallowhaven. Not in this small, obscure town in the northern most point of Hoenn, far north of Foretree City.

But the darkness wrapped around him tighter and tighter still. He clawed at his throat, suddenly feeling the air cut off. He needed to get up, he needed to run. He needed to call out his trust Altaria to help him, to take him away from this place.

But he couldn't move his hands. He was bound, helpless and prostrate, as the talons rendered him, bone from bone.

And no screams could be heard in the deep, dark, frosty night, Fallowhaven resting peacefully in unperturbed sleep.

_BZZZZT! BZZZT! CAROLINE! WAKE UP! _

"Ugh, Rotom, whaaaat," I groaned. I half heartedly flapped my arm from beneath the covers. I tried to swat at the Pokemon, who buzzed wildly around my head in his Dex form. He continued to blare and buzz in my ears and small part of me longed for the days before scientists partnered with the Rotom to convince them to inhabit PokeDex's. The nice, quiet days when I was just a Trainer, traveling the world…

_BBBZZZZT! CAROLINE! WAKE! UP!_

"Fine! I'm up, I'm up!" I shouted, throwing a pillow. The little red Dex dodged my protests in a swoop and ducked behind my oak dresser. A grin spiraled sheepishly across his electronic face.

_I juzzzt wanted you to wake up for workzzzz_, the Rotom hummed.

"Yea, yea, yea," I rolled my eyes and shuffled out of the bed. The cold of the room bit into my skin and I hurriedly threw my bathroom around my shoulders, shuddering. "Damn, I always hoped I would escape the cold when I moved to Hoenn."

_You would thinkzzz that a little 17 degreezzz would not bother zzzzomeone from Zzzzinnoh, _Rotom said.

"You, sir, are five minutes away from being flushed down the toilet," I sneered at him, skittering over to my bathroom. Unfortunately, I caught a glimpse of my disshelved black hair in the mirror and winched. "Damn, I look like a witch." I tried to smooth it out, rubbing my eyes as the last dregs of sleep tried to wash over me. "Rotom, read me my messages."

_Mezzzagezzz, _Rotom purred. I noticed his screen blur as he scrolled to me email. While he thought, I quickly turned on the shower to full heat, waiting until the room thoroughly filled with steam before taking off my night clothes. _Two from Weedle Weaverzzz Weekly, one from Chanzzze, and one from the DPPP._

_The DPPP_, I thought. I stifled a groan of joy and relief as the hot water spilled over my back and down my spine. Jeez, I hadn't realized how sore and tired I had been until the water hit me.

Quickly, I shook the blissful thoughts from my mind and concentrated. The DPPP, or the Department for the Protection of People and Pokemon. It was technically the umbrella corporation that I worked for, though my specific branch, the Kage or Shadow Division. Our work involved learning about ghost, psychic, dark, and fairy type Pokemon, particularly relation to humans. Unfortunately, a lot of our work also involved criminal investigation.

I didn't want to think what the department would want from me. I quietly hoped it was just a piece of generalized spam mail reminding us of local webinars or team building events, nothing important and nothing to worry about.

"What does Chance want?" I asked instead. In truth, the one I was most curious about was the message from Chance Butler, my friend and colleague. Chance had been through everything with me. We had gone through boot camp, DPPPs training, and even our first crime scene. When I was transferred to the Shadow Division under the auspices of being usually in tune with Dark-type Pokemon, he worked his butt off to get transferred with me. We worked together like, well, like a well-oiled machine.

We had worked together so well for so long that the fact he had sent me something through email was almost jarring. Usually he'd just text or call me. But if it was an email, it was work related and likely important.

_Bzzz, Caroline, you are gonna want to zzzeee thizzz._

The chipper, wagging tone had vanished from Rotom's electronic buzz so suddenly that, despite the hellfire water that was assaulting my scalp, I felt a knife shock chill rush down my spine. Suds and all, I stuck my head out of the shower to see Rotom floating just outside the curtain. A body of text scrolled past along with a horrifying, gut wrenching sight. I felt bile rise up in my throat and I hurriedly turned back into the shower. Yet, even in the moment of stomach roiling pain, I could not erase the image of a human body mutilated and shredded beyond all human comprehension until it no longer even looked real. Pushing my thumbs into my eyes, I took deep even breaths, willing the moment to pass.

I that brief glimpse of the gory photo, I managed to catch the headline of the message.

_Local Fallowhaven Trainer found mutilated beyond recognition, local police contacted DPPP. They're sending us there. Get Nora and Dakota, they're going to be needed._

"Rotom," I gasped, fighting and straining to push down the bile in my throat. Shit, if I didn't get this together, I was never going to be able to analyze the crime scene.

I had never seen anything so horrible, so truly foul and abhorrent.

And this was just through a picture.

A power began to swirl around me. I felt a darkness closing in, a fear beyond all measure.

"Rotom, get Nora, hurry," I choked.

I didn't hear him buzz away. All I could hear was the dance of shower droplets on the curtain. A silence began to fall over my ears.

_Shit shit shit…_

I crouched down in the tub as the shadow began to curl and roil in the bathroom. I snapped my eyes shut, covering my ears.

_Think happy, think happy…_

My mind wouldn't let go. All it could see were the bleached white bones of that teenager jutting out from the intense gore of his own body.

I couldn't hear the shower anymore.

I couldn't hear anything.

Except deep, low breaths. Like the whisper of a breeze in the midst of a summer night.

"Sneaz!"

The sound of tearing wrenched through the silence. A muffled cry seemed to rise up from within the bathroom and, all at once, I felt the fiery hot droplets banging down on my head again. I opened my eyes to see Nora standing at the far end of the tub, her sharp, knife-like hands criss-crossed in annoyance. She tapped a clawed foot and I watched as her little orange head feather draped over her pink fur as the shower soaked her.

A breathe of relief washed out of my lungs. As always, I could trust on my Sneasel, Nora, to drive away the darkness.

"Thanks Nora," I raised a shaky hand to pat her head but she pushed my hand away with a claw. She instead huffed and tapped her foot harder. I gave her a wan smile and shut off the shower. "I'm sorry, Nora. I am."

"Sneasel," she bitterly barked at me.

I glanced over at Rotom for some help.

_Zzzhe izz mad that you let the darknezzz come again._

I figured. "I'm sorry Nora. You know I can't help it."

"Sneeeaaazz," she spat.

_Zzzhe zzzayzzz you could if you worked a different job, _Rotom hummed. _I, for one, am inclined to agree._

"Oh hush," I waved at the Rotom. Ultimately, a pang of guilt washed through me. I knew, I_knew_ Nora was right. _If you are bound up in a curse, avoid the shadows_, Mave had told us. I knew Nora remembered. I did too.

But being an detective was all I had ever wanted, was all I had ever dreamed to work for. Sure, when I was young, the travels and luster of a Trainer journey filled my every waking moment, but unless I had aspirations to run a Gym or maintain control over the League, I knew the permanent Trainer life wasn't for me. I knew I had to have a real career, a real life, after my adventure ended. And I hadn't wanted adventure itself to end. There was adventure in discovery, and there could be good too. I could help people with the gifts the curse had left me.

But I was still cursed.

And there was nothing I or my friends could do about it.

"I don't want to have this fight with you again, Nora," I whispered. "Thank you for saving me. Can I make you some Oran Berry pancakes before we go? I know they're your favorite."

Nora gave me a long, sideline look, trying to decide whether or not she was going to stay mad at me. In the end, Oran Berry pancakes won out. She huffed and clambered out of the tub. I grinned.

"Go get Dakota. We'll eat and catch up with Chance at the Mossdeep Airport," I called.

Nora ignored me and raced down the hall.

I sighed and pushed myself up. It was only 8 am and I had already seen the shadows and been given probably the worst case I had ever seen.

It was going to be a great day.

Just. Great.


	2. Chapter 2

"Yo, Goodwi… Holy shit, you look like hell."

Chance guffawed and I pulled the brim of my DPPP hat low over my brow, trying to hide the dark Zigzagoon circles under my eyes. No amount of makeup could save my face from the physical toll a shadow encounter brought, and this was a strong one yet. I knew I looked like I had spent the whole previous night partying and then some, despite the honest truth of a long night of crochet and saccharine Yuletide films on the Delibird Dalliance's Channel. Instead of returning the prod, I ignored him and took a long sip of coffee. I could feel the beginnings of a migraine rise up behind my eyes.

Chance, all six-foot-four of him, stood in front of me, laughing for a minute. Until he realized I wasn't laughing. He gave my shoulder a light shove, his curly hair bouncing as he moved.

"Yo, what's wrong?"

"I had a shadow encounter this morning."

Chance winced and I felt bad that I knew I was making him feel bad and I kind of wanted him to feel bad for laughing earlier. He, out of everyone else, is the only one who understood the curse. As a former resident of Lillycove City and grandson of the current priest at Mt. Pyre, he had spent a whole life learning the ins and outs of ghosts and ghost type pokemon. His partner Pokémon, Haru, a Dusclops, had been with him ever since he was a child and the ghost a mere Duskull. He knew more about death than anyone else I knew.

He, far more than I, belong in the Shadow Division.

"Shit, did the email I sent you trigger it?" he asked.

I nodded and patted my belt where Nora's blue Great Ball rested. "It's ok, Nora helped me out."

"Still," Chance shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Goodwin. I was just thinking I should prep you before we got there."

"No, it's good that you did. I needed to know. Better to have an encounter at home than on the job."

_Besides, it gave me some time to meditate and find a happy memory to focus on_. I knew as soon as we got to that crime scene, the overwhelming sense of dread was going to come and kick me in the face with the force of a thousand Hitmonlees. I needed to have a link, something to keep me calm.

And, of course, we had Dakota. Arceus bless that sweet little Kirlia.

Chance put a hand on my shoulder, concern written across his face. I shrugged it off.

"I'm fine," I emphasized.

"Still…" Chance bit his lip and glanced at the ride before us. The small plane had a set of black stairs rolling up to the entrance and we could both see a very familiar figure materializing in the doorway. His jet black hair was peppered with grey and his sunken, gray eyes were as cold and sharp as an Aggron's horn.

Dimitri Rasley, the head of the Kage Division, stood before us, cool and solemn. Bellum, his Murkrow, perched on his shoulder, her little broom-like tail bowed in sorrow.

Today was not a day for jokes or fun or anything else our tight little band could bring. A young man in Hoenn had been slaughtered in a gruesome way and it was our job to figure out why.

"Come on," Chance said quietly, his voice imbued with the quiet sobriety our boss emulated. "Rasley is waiting."

I nodded and followed Chance across the tarmac and up the stairs. Rasley greeted each of us with a stiff handshake and led us into the plane.

It was a small, but spacious affair. It was still strange to me that the DPPP would foot the bill to send us all across Hoenn in a private plane but, in a way, it did make sense. We were needed and as soon as possible. If that meant shelling out the coin for a spacious private jet, they'd do it.

The room itself was very similar to the myriad of conference rooms I had found myself in over my career, with its oblong oval shape and two long bench-like couches flanking either side of the room. A television flickered with the morning news on the far wall, next to which was an opening where a blue and white clad flight attendant stood with her cart, ready to doll out goodies to keep her clients happy.

"It is time Hoenn moves into the present," the talking head on the TV said emphatically. I recognized her but only began her face and motived has been a hot button topic as of late. This strong young speaker, Camila Ramirez, was the new political face vying for seat as Prime Minister of Hoenn. "Gym Leaders, Champion, it is time we move in the progressive direct as the people of Galar have done. Walls to protect our businesses, our homes, our families, from wild and potentially dangerous Pokémon is the way of the future!"

I rolled my eyes and tuned out the TV as I hurriedly settled myself into the seat furthest from the door, buckling myself in and polishing off the rest of my coffee before either Chance or Rasley could take their seat. Before I could throw my cup in the trash can at my side, the little flight attendant sneaked up beside me and asked, "Would you like another coffee, ma'am?"

I glanced at her name tag. "Sure thing. Thank you, Jackie."

"It is my pleasure." She gave a small bow of her head and took my cup away to be refilled.

Aside from the rubble of the plane engineer, the cabin was eerily silent. I could hear Jackie rummaging in the back kitchen and the subtle drip, glug, glug of the coffee pour, so quiet was our cabin. Even the usually chatty Bellum remained silent on her trainer's shoulder as we settled in, waiting.

Jackie returned with my coffee and I thanked her for her trouble. The brew was bitter and felt good as it ran warm down my throat, easing the tension in my eyebrows. I watched as Jackie closed the door of the plane and spoke in muffled tones into a two-way intercom that hung beside the door. The light above my seat flashed and a scratchy electronic voice announced, "Please buckle your seat belts. We will be taking off shortly."

I felt the watch on my wrist vibrate as the announcement died away. Sipping my coffee, I glanced down and smiled as Chance's name scrawled across the screen, along with the text, _Hang in there, Goodwin. You got this. _A meme of a Meowth hanging onto a bar, a cup of coffee clamped in its jowls, followed the text. I masked my smile with my coffee cup.

If there was anything Chance knew how to do, it was to cheer me up.

The plane rumbled and purred beneath my feet and I watched as Jackie the flight attendant scurried back to her quarters in the rear of the plane, likely to strap herself in for takeoff. Absently, I placed a hand on Nora's Pokéball. I could almost feel her anxiety radiating from within the capsule. She hated flying, hated it with a fiery passion. She didn't even like riding Skye, the Staraptor who had once been on my team, despite training with her for so many years. I was very glad Nora was tightly away in her ball and out of the immediacy of danger.

Eventually, I could feel the plane move, rolling lazily down the tarmac at first, then with voracious force. I peered out the window behind me, watching as trees and buildings slipped by, faster and faster, until they slowly started to grow small. The whole of Mossdeep city began to expand and contract all at once. There was the Space Center, and the DPPP building, and I could almost make out the parking lot of my apartment complex. Then, all at once, they were shrouded in white, wispy clouds. I thought I could almost see the light blue of an Altaria mixed within the cloudy sky. I did manage to catch a glimpse of navy blue Swellow feathers before they disappeared into cloud cover, sunlight dappling the clear, crisp winter morning like tendrils of light magic.

"Thank you both for coming," Rasley's even keeled voice finally broke the silence. He spoke as though he was a man of great years, with dignified confidence and grandeur in his voice. I often thought of how he would have been an excellent Champion, far better than some of young, might-as-well-be-children trainers that walk through that rank.

"Of course, sir," I said.

Rasley dipped his head. "I've seen a lot of strange things in my day, but this is by far the most gruesome."

"Why call us, though?" Chance asked. "I mean, do they have reason to suspect it falls under the FFE?"

The FFE, or the Four Factors of Evidence, are what classify a case as necessitating involvement by the Kage Division and were the first things Rasley drilled into our skulls when we joined the force. Is there evidence that the incident involved psychic, ghost, dark, or faerie type Pokémon, is there evidence of supernatural, otherworldly, or involvement beyond the capacity of normal people or Pokémon, is there evidence unusual circumstances or unexplainable phenomenon, or is there evidence of unexplained timelines or mismatched testimonies. The fourth of the FFE had always bothered me, it didn't seem like a good enough reason to warrant our involvement. People lied all the time, making their statements contradict one another. That wasn't unusual. At least, that's what I had thought until Chance and I were given the case of Celebi interference, a Pokémon who could move across time and, thus, impact the statements of witnesses. However, there had to be a very particular way in which witness testimony deviated or we would be involved in every criminal case across Hoenn.

Fortunately, it wasn't the fourth FFE that required our involvement.

"The trainer's body, or what was left of it, anyway, was found in the middle of Fallowhaven town square," Rasley said, his voice not even catching a millimeter. Man, I'll never understand how he could speak so evenly about these things.

"Where's Fallowhaven?" I asked. I instantly regretted it. I knew, I _knew_ this would just be another thing that made it obvious that I was Sinnohian and not native and I knew on some deep level, that deeply bothered Rasley.

"I actually don't know," Chance mumbled, almost surprised at himself. He shot me a glance of genuine surprise and I felt a pain of relief wash through me. Well, at least I wasn't totally inept at Hoenn geography.

"It's a small village north of Fortree," Rasley said. He folded his hands, pressing his fingertips together as if he was praying. But he wasn't. Hunched over, elbows on his knees, this was his focused expression, the intensity of his gaze and manner could not be missed. "The most northern village on the eastern side of the Region. The village is so small, it almost doesn't even register. Population of two-hundred, one school, one church, they don't even have a Pokémon Center, they have to send their people directly to Fortree if they want to be treated. But they do have quite a bit of forested land and are known for breeding Swablu. According to some quick research, this village's claim to fame is their golden Altaria."

Chance gave a low whistle. "A golden Altaria. That's even rarer than your Nora, Goodwin."

I nodded slowly. I was fairly new to the region but not so new that I didn't know how coveted the golden Swablu and Altaria were in the Region. A trainer in the Contest Circuit by the name of Alaina Vidali had showed off her glorious golden Altaria, Peng. Between a well-choreographed Dragon Dance, Dragon Breath, and Moonblast, Alaina Vidali had swept all of the region off its feet. People and trainers were clamoring all across Hoenn for a golden Swablu to train into the glorious golden Altaria, just like Peng.

"This place breeds Swablu in the hopes of breeding a golden Swablu?" I asked dubiously.

"Not just hopes," Rasley corrected. "This is the exact town where Peng the Golden Altaria originated. Apparently, Alaina Vidali is from Fallowhaven."

Chance gave a low whistle. "From rags to riches, as they say. So, this young trainer is somehow tried to the golden Altaria, am I right?"

Rasley shrugged. "That's for us to find out."

I took out an empty Pokéball and tossed it between my fingers, thinking. A town that was so small, barely two hundred people occupied it. Its only claim to fame is a Contest Idol and her golden Altaria. So, they decide to profit from the tourism and start rapidly breeding their local Swablu. Aside from the obvious Pokémon cruelty or over-population of Swablu from such a scam, the whole town itself sounds innocuous.

But a trainer was killed _in their village square_.

Why?

"Their town square, huh?" I said. "Why does that matter? Did it happen in broad daylight?"

"No, based on the little testimony the police have sent to me, it happened at night."

"Then, what makes this fulfill one of the FFEs?"

Rasley pressed his fingers together, hard. "Imagine you live in a small village. You've known every single person who lives there your whole life. Your childhood friends, your whole family, even elders who changed you as an infant live there. And, in the middle of the night, you are attacked, somehow and in some way. You scream for help."

My body grew cold. "And, you're in the middle of the town, where everyone should be able to hear you."

"And this is a small town, where nothing in particular happens," Chance whispered, coming to the same realization I did.

"And no on," Rasley finished. "No one comes to help you."

I swallowed hard. There were a lot of possibilities I could imagine but this is one that doesn't add up well.

I dared another question. "So, erm, who found him, then?"

Rasley pursed his lips. "His mother."

* * *

Thick, yellow plum pine trees surrounded the village in barrier-like fashion, wrapping the hopes in the tranquil solitude of nature. As the trees flashed by eyes, I caught the scent of sea water, telling me that the coast was very near. The Humvee we have picked up back in Fortree bumped and shook as it ran over rocks and branches and the tires splashed soundly as it bounced through a river. I caught a glimpse of three young boys who were standing at the water's edge, fishing poles in hand, jeering and shoving each other as one lad let the fish get away. Once the Humvee passed by, they whirled, and their little jaws dropped open in shock. Their shouts of shock and delight followed us as we burst through the trees and skittered to a halt in the town itself.

Damn, Rasley had been right.

There were Swablu everywhere.

They were perched on top of houses and trees, cluttering the skies with little cotton wings. Their little blue bodies clotted the skies so thickly that they almost resembled the sky itself, though with a thousand beady eyes staring down intently and with expectation. A small cluster of Swablu landed on the Humvee almost as soon as it had stopped, chittering and whistling a song loudly. Damn, I didn't know I needed to bring ear plugs.

The village of Fallowhaven was, in truth, as small as Rasley had said but honestly felt smaller. The homes seemed like they had been there since the foundation of Hoenn as a Region, old and crumbling in some places, simply worn in others. I noticed the peak of a school house peering out from the array of tiny brick shacks, the old rusted bell in the tower certainly more quiet than the flock of birds that clustered around it. Lines of laundry dangled between homes and a statue of a great, golden bird rose up gloriously in the center of town. This area, however, was blocked off by thin yellow and black police tap. I noticed two officers standing on either side of a statue and a large gray-green tent, which was further guarded by police tape. Two Growlithe paroled the perimeter, growling at lurkers and shooting short bursts of flame at any bird that dare flutter near the crime scene.

The general crime scene is what my eyes saw. My mind's eye, however, began to pick up more. The longer I lingered and stared at that tent, the more I began to notice it. A dark, swirling black and purple aura radiated from deep within the tent. The golden Altaria statue was no longer bright and shining, but dimmed beyond recognition by the shadows that lingered.

Sound began to muffle in my ears. I could feel the icy cold presence lingering against my spine.

_Shit_, I snapped my eyes shut and grabbed the happiest memory my mind could find.

_I was standing inside Professor Rowan's laboratory. The clean small of chemical washed over me and I watched as he walked over to his work bench and picked up a tray._

_"These are three Pokémon I caught recently," he said. "I've been working with them a bit and I think they are ready to have a trainer of their own. This one here," he touched the far left one. "Is the grass-type, Turtwig. He has a gentle nature but can be a fierce competitor. This one," he touched the center ball. "Is Chimchar, a fire-type. He has a lot of energy and takes a firm hand in training. But that energy, when handle well, can be put to good use. And finally," he touched the final Pokéball. "This is Piplup, a water-type. She is on the shy side and, well, admittedly, I'm not sure battling is her favorite. But I think the guiding hand of a kind and loving trainer can help her grow into her own."_

_I ran my fingers over each Pokéball in turn. I knew this decision here, this moment, would chart my adventure as a trainer. At eighteen, I was finally being allowed to move out on my own and start the Pokémon journey I had always dreamed about. I thought of all of the great adventures I would have, the brilliant sights I would see. A Chimchar would have a great energy about that. I could imagine the little monkey swinging from treetop to treetop, pointing out the sights with me, reveling in the scenery with me. I grinned and picked up his Pokéball._

_"I choose Chimchar," I said proudly. _

_Professor Rowan grinned. "Ahh, Caroline, I thought you might. Well, let's meet the little guy."_

_Excitedly, I pressed down the center button on the ball and it cracked open with a snapped. Jagged red light burst out of the ball and, with it, a small, flaming little monkey with fiery orange fur and a wide, silly grin._

_"Chim chimchar!" the Pokémon cried._

_I squealed and clapped with delight. "Oh, you are so cute! We're gonna have a great adventure, you and I."_

_"Chimchar!" the monkey returned my enthusiasm with a cry and scampered up my arm. _

_I ruffled the little fur on his head. "Would you mind if I called you Zaru?"_

_The Chimchar nodded and wrapped his hands around my neck. A fierce glow of joy and relief washed over me and I hugged the monkey back. Zaru liked me, I had my first Pokémon._

_I was going on an adventure._

I held onto this memory, the moment Zaru, my first Pokémon, came into my life. As I strained to hold onto that joy and happiness, I felt at eighteen, my twenty-six-year-old self listened. My ears seemed to pop and strain and, slowly but surely, sound returned. The chill died away but only slightly. It was December after all.

"Dang, I guess you see something," Chance said, staring at me. Ugh, I hated that look he gave me, and I was quietly glad for my sunglasses. I'm sure my eyes were glowing purple about now with the full positive effect of the curse in play. It was only because of the curse that I could see the aura and feel the darkness pressing in on all side.

"Yea," I breathed. It was hard to fight the pressure on the back of my skull, to hold that memory tight. The migraine behind my eyes was blaring now, full steam ahead. "The aura here is bad. It's so bad, Chance."

He bit his lip and I felt his hand slip into mine. I closed my eyes, trying to breathe evenly. The pressure of his hand on mine was such a welcome relief. I wish I could let some of this pain pass between us, just so he could know how hard it was to hold it all.

And we were just outside the tent.

"I think it's time to call out Dakota," he whispered.

I nodded and reached for the little pink Heal Ball at my hip. "Help me out Dakota. Use Calm Mind."

The ball in my hand popped open and in a whirl of bright red light, the little Kirlia materialized. Her white and green skirt fluttered as she spiraled out of the light, her tiny green feet poised and ready, as though she was going to leap into the air. Instead, she turned her shining red eyes onto me, worry clear in her gaze as it always was for both her and Nora.

It still boggled my mind how much she had grown. I still remembered the week Nora and I had moved to Hoenn. A harsh storm had ravaged Mossdeep City, a hurricane like the city hadn't seen in decades. Homes were destroyed, people and Pokémon were displaced and, sometimes, even killed. Somehow, miraculously, my apartment complex remained standing, though there was a lot of water damage. On an afternoon following the destruction, while maintenance was cleaning up my apartment and restoring it to its former two bedroom glory, Nora and I walked along the coast. There was so much debris on the coast, so much destruction. Pieces of wood and metal, even tires and…wait, was that a Pokémon. A small, white body with a green helmet splay across the sand, face down.

Nora and I rushed to the Pokémon's side. I place two fingers on its throat. It had a hard beat, but just barely. I remember racing the little Pokémon that Rotom identified as a Ralts to the Pokémon Center. Nora and I stayed in that Pokémon Center for two days, praying and hoping beyond all hope that the little Ralts would survive.

Somehow, she did. The nurse suspected she had been displaced from her habitat near Route 102, which is where most Ralts were said reside. I remember thinking just how far that was and how impossible it was that the little Pokémon should have survived.

"Do you want us to take you back to your habitat?" I asked her.

The little Ralts shook her head and placed her tiny white hands on mine. _No, please. I am so grateful. Let me stay with you._

I blinked in surprise and glanced between the Ralts and Rotom. "I can hear her."

_Zzz, Raltzzz are Pzzychic typezzzz, _Rotom buzzed. _With zzzztrong telepathic abilitiezzz. _

I looked down at the little Ralts. Those sparkling red eyes looked up at me expectantly. I grinned and patted her head. "Of course, you can stay."

And Dakota had always been with us. As Nora taught her the ropes, we found that her Psychic abilities could help me get better control over my own strange abilities. Now, as a Kirlia, she slipped a little white hand into my own. I felt the familiar rush of her mind rush over me, calming, gentle waves of power and serenity. All of the darkness within my own mind and heart slipped away as Dakota's serendipitous voice rolled over me in crystalline waves.

_Peace be with you, Caroline, _Dakota's voice hummed across my mind like the chiming of church bells. I breathed a sigh of relief as the pain began to wash away. _Be calm, my friend. Let us find the truth that lies beyond these walls. _

"Thank you," I whispered to the Kirlia, holding her delicate hand in my hand. Chance seemed to realize that Dakota had me safely in her care and released my hand.

"Let's go." Rasley jumped out of the Humvee and strode towards the tent. Chance and I glanced at one another and followed behind, Dakota scurrying at my side. We flashed out badges to the waiting officer and he lifted the police tape to let us through. As we approached, a horrendous smell began to waft toward me. I felt bile rise up in the back of my throat but I forced it down.

"So, you guys are from the Kage Division," the office growled. He looked exhausted, black eyes peering out from behind heavily magnified glasses.

Rasley nodded and pushed past him. The officer blinked, surprised.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "About him, I mean. Thank you for protecting the scene.

The officer, I noticed his name plate read Officer Meier, tipped his hat toward me. "Not a problem ma'am. Though, I'll admit, it's not a pretty sight. You sure you're up for going in there?"

I set my jaw, trying not to let me emotions show. No, I most certainly was not up for it. But I had to be. The family of this trainer deserved to know what happened.

"I'll be alright," I said, trying to have a cheery tone.

Dakota chimed at my side, a tinkling laugh radiating around her. I shot her a glare and she covered her mouth to stifle her giggles. Gee, thanks a lot.

Chance lifted the tent flap for me. Before I could even walk in, the dark aura whirled around me, battering my mind with darkness. I gritted my teeth, holding my memory.

"Dakota, it's bad," I hissed. She gasped and focused harder. I felt a new wave of Calm Mind rush over me, her delicate meditative sounds forced out the dark aura. It was bad in here, very, very bad. Without even looking at the remains, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that this had been done by a Ghost-type. Only Ghost-types had aura this strong and this malicious, especially Ghost-types that have been trained to be aggressive or had been abused by other of its kind or its trainer. The aura footprint left by the attacker was so large and negative, it threatened to bring me to my knees. I felt my legs shake but the radiation of Dakota's calm wave of emotional energy spread across my thoughts, forced out the shadows and allowing me to harness my power and take in the scene.

It was so much worse than the photo. Gore splattered the enter front steps leading up to the Altaria statue. Fragments of flesh were draped here and there and tiny bit of bloodstained cloth were strew about in ribbons. It is almost as if the body had exploded.

"It looks like he was ripped to shreds," I whispered. The stench of the gore was violently overwhelming. I took a mask gratefully from a forensic tech who was standing by, thoroughly decked out in protective gear. The other technicians in the tent helped Rasley, Chance, and I and, yes, even Dakota, pull on biohazard suits, gloves and safety goggles. Once we were deemed safe, we passed through another line of police tape and stepped onto the scene proper. Rasley walked about the scene, taking photographs with his phone as he moved. Chance moved similarly, though he began to collect tiny pieces of cloth and put them into labeled ziplock bags. I noticed him glance over at me, worry lines written on his brow. I gave him a half-hearted salute bent down to examine the scene myself, picking up a tiny shred of cloth. Sure enough, the fabric was jagged in several areas and out right punctured in others.

"We may want to investigate the possibility of a rogue Swablu attack," I said. "These tears were very obviously done by Pokémon talons, this was not an act performed by humans."

"Does it feel like a Swablu attack though?" Rasley asked.

I bit my lip. "Well, admittedly, no. This has all the aura markers of a Ghost-type attack." I looked around me. I could see wavering footprints of shadow and aura lingering on the steps, several of them, small and jagged. "This will never hold up in court, but I can see aura footprint. Lots of them."

"Can you sketch them for us?" Rasley shot up, suddenly animated. He rifled around in his bag and brought me a sketch pad and a charcoal pencil. "Try to get as many as you can."

Taking the instruments, I crouched and began to sketch. As I drew, my mind began to clear. I could make out the finer shapes of the paws and the claws. While they were similar in format, three front claws and a long back half that I couldn't tell if it was part of the foot or a claw, they were somewhat different in size and orientation. Some were small, some hard a larger middle claw, others had three very symmetrical three-claws. But they were repetitive, enough so that I could see that there were, at least, six different Pokémon of the same species involved in the attack. Six was enough for a pack...and enough for a full Pokémon trainer roster…

I shook my head. It was too early to be declaring this a homicide and it was only a specular. Plenty of Pokémon species traveled in packs and these distinct aura footprints would help us find the species.

I passed the notepad off to Rasley, who gave a low whistle. "This is excellent work, Goodwin. It's a wonder you didn't go into art."

I grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of my head. "Eh, it's nothing really."

"She's lying, she used to spend hours sketching Pokémon during boot camp," Chance said from behind a camera. He snapped another photo, then stood. "Umm, have you guys noticed the distinct lack of bones."

Rasley and I shared a glance, then looked back at the gore. Now that he mentioned it, there were only a few pieces sticking out of the muck, and they were bleached white. As if they have been picked clean.

I swallowed hard. "Do you think… whatever it was… was after his bones?"

Rasley pursed his lips and jotted something down on a notepad, pacing. "I'm not sure but let's keep this observation in the back of our mind. Take as many pictures as you can and…"

_CRUNCH!_

A loud snap rang through the tent. The three of us shared a glance. Rasley looked down and lifted up his foot.

Pieces of a green and black Pokéball fell from his shoe. I hurried scuttled over and collected the pieces into a bag.

"Well, shit," Rasley said. "I think we might have a homicide on our hands."


End file.
